Something That I Needed
by Obisoka
Summary: Selina Kyle. A theif. A criminal. But can there be more than meets the eye? Has Arkham City- changed her? Can she leave so easily? Is there something that she needs? Or should I say- someone?
1. Secret

**Catwoman's POV**

"Beat the bitch!" The thug roared into my ears.

I hissed as one of the men launched me from my feet into a nearby garbage bin. My head ricocheted off the bin onto the sticky, grimy ground.

"Dam boys, don't you know how to treat a lady?" I questioned, regaining my balance.

I lunged at the closest man and clawed at his face, making blood curdle from his cheeks. I sent my left foot into the shortest of the trio's gut. He fell back clutching his stomach; woos. If I had a nickel for every time I got kicked.

I pondered what I could buy after I left the last thug dangling from the walkway's ledge. His screams echoed as I strutted through the dark alleyways of Arkham City.

* * *

The air was cool and thin as I slid to a destroyed car. That thug near the ACE Chemicals building seemed to have excellent hearing; every time I stopped to scan the area, he became suspicious and glared curiously into the snow filled night.

I felt the cool metal of the bumper on the palms of my hands. I could see through the destroyed dashboard of the car right to the man. He kept glaring in circles, scanning the area with some, red lens on his right eye. Some technology I would expect Freeze to have.

I pulled down my goggles to get a closer look. My surroundings became shocked orange, exposing details on the thug's belt. I had never been so careful to analyze. A gold pouch sat on his hip, loosely hanging on a plastic clip. The thing inside it however caught my eye:

A silver plate sat in the pocket, creating a circle outline on the pouch. I am usually good at identifying objects; their value, their make things like that. However, this had me stumped.

The thug must have seen something; he cocked his arm into the air, pointing it directly at the roof to the right of me. I removed my goggles and ducked down further. This guy was too dangerous and unpredictable to attack head on; this theft would have to wait.

I exhaled and leaned back against the car. I stared as a grey rat sped across the alley, disappearing under a grey electric fence out of Arkham City. Only if I could leave that easily, but I always felt like something was here I didn't have; something that I needed.

My eyes returned to the dashboard of the car. The thug was still glaring, but had moved to under a fire escape where he pointed his sniper up. Did he see something?

I sat up to see over the cars roof, resting my hand on the mirror. The fire escape was still and idle; maybe this guy wasn't as precise as I thought.

I felt my hand's resting place slip from my grasp; the mirror had broken into a hundred pieces on the ground below. A horrible cracking noise came after.

I froze in my position. I pressed my whole body against the car somehow hoping to just- disappear. I bit my lip and waited. There was complete silence for almost ten seconds before I made my move.

I silently moved my glove took the largest shard from the mirror in my hands. I held it up to the dashboard, twisting and turning it to get the perfect reflection of the man. Eventually, I did.

He certainly heard the noise; his face was stumped and confused. His goatee outlined his frown as he slowly pointed his arm dart at the car. Suddenly, a laser pointer reflected in the mirror to the middle of my forehead; I'm done.

An airy gunshot shattered the winter air. I dropped the shard and dove from the car to the street corner where I saw the rat escape. My glove was now a scarlet from my blood, not from the bullet, but from the mirror.

"We can play this game all day, sweetheart!" The thug declared. I straddled my whip and took a deep breathe.

I lunged around the corner in a rush of adrenaline and cracked my whip upon the man's arm. The dart gun ripped of his wrist belt and smashed on the frosty concrete. He let out a growl and regained balance. His arm as well dripped blood now, covering his pale white skin.

"Well, well guess I got a challenge." The thug admitted, pulling a sliver knife from his back. He held it in a reverse grip and chuckled greedily.

"You sound surprised." I snapped back. We stood still then jumped at each other. he had got the upper hand. His cool knife slowly pierce my leather suit as his body pinned me against the wall. I exposed my claws and readied a vertical rip down his leg, but to no avail; the pain in my side blurred my senses.

I braced for an excruciating amount of pain, as it soon came. My mind clouded and I was tossed onto the ground once more. My cheeks scratched the ground and I came to a stop near a gutter.

"Heh, and I thought cats have _nine_ lives." The man said, standing over my limp frame. He lifted his spurred boots and prepared to stomp down.

Yet the man was tossed back by a black, caped figure. His body crashed against the car; my unsuccessful hiding place. No more actions came from the thug.

The large frame came before me and lifted me their arms. I made no effort to get comfortable, for I already knew who this _figure_; a former lover if anything. Although, he trusted me with his biggest secret.

This time I did not try to escape like usual; this was unusual if anything.

I felt the two of us lift from the ground into the dying dusk; little snowflakes melting on my nose as we ascended higher and higher.

The figure's warm body comforted me through our the lift; something I disliked, right?

He said nothing as we swung from building to building, the odd gunshot echoing through the night.

However, I managed to mutter something before my injury took affect and I fell unconscious:

"Dammit Bruce, I almost had him!"


	2. Impulse

**Catwoman's POV**

My mind became clear again and my eyes fluttered open. The night was pitch black with no snow falling from the unexposed clouds.

I sat up dazed. My stab mark was now covered in a clear patch, which soothed the sharp pain I had hours ago. I was under a hut made from aluminum siding; it was held together by two-by-fours and lose steel bolts. Still, the fire bin warmed my cheeks. Some thug did a pretty good job.

I glared over to the edge of the building's roof. Bruce sat there huddled in his cape, staring down into the streets.

"Bruce?" I asked leaning forward, gaining a look at his meagre expression. One he always sported.

He looked back to see me. "Good, you're up."

And without a word, he leapt from his kneeling position off the roof. He spread his cape and dove down twenty stories; gone. Nothing but a cool wave of air from his dive was left.

Actually, I was going to say thank you. Not like me I know, but none the less he didn't _have to_ do that.

I got to my feet and glared to the shadowy alley way where that thug, or _assassin_, was. His boy was gone from his slumped position where I saw him last. He was too good to just stay there when he gets hurt.

Was I underestimating him again? I had to find out more on this guy and that plate. It looked confiscated by its material. With silver like that, he'd be able to _buy_ his way out of here. For once, I had no clue who this guy is.

Let's see, who would know more about this guy:

Harley? Nah, she busy with that _grieving stuff._

Freeze? Nope, he's with his ice_ princess_. Plus, itdidn't go well when I talked to him last time.

Ivy? She's pissed anyway.

Zsasz? Psycho.

Hatter? Another Psycho.

Wait! Maybe the Dark Knight would know? Perfect, only now I have to track him down.

* * *

I flipped the last goon over my shoulder, silencing his flailing arms and screams for mercy. Even after days of interrogating thugs, I still was stumped on who that man was. He wasn't a thug that's for sure; he was a hired assassin of some sort. He was obviously too smart to get in line with Penguin, Two-Face or Quinn.

I stepped over the goon's body and peered over the museum's balcony. Wonder Tower still flared orange flames and grey smoke. Gotham City Fire was still trying to end the tower's blaze.

The museum's skylight was also on fire. Charred coals fell from it now and then, onto the un-expecting goons below; a hilarious sight.

Then I heard it, the possible answer to all my questions;

"Look out, it's the Bat!"

I leaped off the railing and swung to the mysterious sound. The goon must be blocks away, but this was my only time to get some _one on one time _with Bruce without him leaving after minimal words.

I pounced off the building corner to get a full view of the fight; Batman was hammering down another thug's face onto the concrete.

I summersaulted in mid-air and landed softly on the ground. I looked up and saw a thug creeping up behind Bruce. He held a bat in his hands, ready to strike the Dark Knight in the skull. Bruce was too busy beating down an armoured thug to notice.

My one thought at the moment was to throw a set of bolas at the follower- so I did. The bat fell from his hands and his body crashed on top of a sewer grate.

Batman finished his beat down on his thug, than turned his attention to me. For a second, he seemed happy to see and- I oddly felt that way too.

However that scene ended when a sniper appeared down the street. He rested the gun on his shoulder and shot a thick bullet spinning through the air.

"Batman!" I screamed, hurtling myself to his body. I pushed his body over to the curb, allowing my body to get the full force of the bullet.

This sacrifice was unbelievable; months ago I would never have taken a bullet for Bruce.

Bruce wouldn't have it though; he gripped my hand and forcefully pulled me down to his chest, saving me from a fatal death. I fell with a thud onto Bruce`s warm chest.

The wisp of air from the bullet made a sharp ear piercing ring. The sniper reloaded while Bruce sat up and shot one of his _gadgets_ at him. In seconds, the sniper fell silently onto the sticky asphalt.

Bruce shook me to get up. I had not realized I was still clutching his arms, probably puncturing his gloves in the process.

"Oh sorry, Bruce." I apologised, releasing my grip on the man. He seemed to be straddling his grappling gun, ready for a quick escape; this would not happen.

I pulled Bruce closer once more, into a fire escape exit. The metal rails echoing as the top of his mask scraped them.

"First of all, thanks. Second, who was that thug who you _took care of _days ago?" I asked, wanting some answers. I had never been so keen on getting to the point. It was always a push and pull theme between Bruce and I.

"His name is Floyd Lawton, or Deadshot. He was hired by Strange to assassinate the political prisoners in the city," Batman explained.

I listened intensively to his words; I had finally got my minute with Bruce and I would not let it go to waste.

"He is one of the world's greatest assassins. I had locked him up days ago in a confined train car. G.C.P.D. was supposed to take him from there, but he must have escaped earlier," Bruce continued, "You were a fool to go up against him, Selina."

"I had my reasons, Batman. Another question, why did you save me? I am one of the only criminals here that you haven't incarcerated." I asked on an impulse.

What am I thinking? Like Bruce would ever give me a straight answer.

"Selina, there are a lot of criminals in this city, some who are meant for death and some deserve to just suffer. You, however, I have not given up on." Bruce said, breaking my assumption. I was at a loss for words. For once, the man under the cowl reminded me why I had a _thing _for him; he never gave up on people- or me.

Suddenly, another impulse decision rang over me. I pushed Bruce gently against the brick wall, covering the two of us in a dark shadow. I spread my hands across his cheeks, and leaned in to tough his lips with mine.

The passion experienced was amazing; his soft lips against mine seemed- right.

Soon, I felt his arms wrap around my waist and return the kiss.

Who knew Arkham City was the most romantic place on the planet?


	3. Employment

**Catwoman's POV**

I think I was wrong about Bruce returning that kiss; he immediately pushed me away upon putting his hands on my waist.

"Selina, no. This won't 've tried this" Bruce stated, looking down at me. I felt a little regret for my impulse decision.

"Sorry, it was just a kiss, Bruce. It won't happen again." I apologized. Bruce eyed me for a while before nodding. Was that kiss such an impulse? I guess so.

Bruce started to walk from the alley, exposing his face to the rusted lamp light. His blue eyes squinted as he grappled to the roof top. Soon the black figure disappeared from view.

Small snowflakes fell to the ground where Batman once stood. I exhaled deeply, forgetting the regret I once felt; there was no time for _lovey-dovey_ in this city.

I continued down the alley, processing my newly found info; this _Deadshot _was hired to kill for Strange; his employment must be terminated since Strange is _unavailable_. This means he's looking for the right person to pay for his skills.

That still doesn't explain what that disk is. I doubt that really matters at the moment, right now I have to find Floyd.

I came to the end of the alleyway, where there must have been a thirty story drop to the lower street level. I shut my eyes and stepped onto a crusty railing. When all my senses let loose, I dove down. The wind whipped at my cheeks as I began my descent.

Seconds later, a touched the ground landing on my feet; my ankles burned as I stood from my crouched position. This had to be my longest dive since back in Gotham off the G.C.P.D. building.

I lifted my head to see a Penguin Goon loading a gun with shaking hands. I let a chuckle loose before leaping at the thug. I pinned him down on the ground, piercing his thick grey jacket with my claws.

"Awww, nothing I pity more than a follower to ol' Oswald. You know he's locked up right?" I asked, caressing his black mask with my whip.

"Piss off, bitch." He spat, letting his grimy saliva coat my face; that was a first. Before I thought, I threw a punch square to his chin, knocking him unconscious.

I wiped the thick spit off my face, flicking is onto the dazed goon. I kept my pace towards my charred apartment. Luckily, most of my possessions were with me at the time of the fire.

Suddenly I felt a weird whoosh of air flow from behind me. I turned to see a man with orange clothing topple onto the ground; Deadshot.

"Miss me sweetheart?" he asked straddling a new dart gun on his arm. I stepped back, unaware of the several thugs behind me.

I bumped into a man with the same coloured clothing, with a tazer in each hand. Another better looking thug stepped before me, wearing a yellow suit with a dart gun the same as Floyd.

"Seems like you got some _people_, Floyd; how about I show them a good time? I questioned, acting before Deadshot answered.

I quickly tripped the armed goon, letting his expensive gun smash on the ground with the rest of his pretty face.

My whip stretched from my hand to wrap around the tazer-goon's arms. I pulled him closer to knock him out in mid-flip.

This gave the other thug time to get up; he punched me in the back, stunning me for a second. I furrowed my brow in pain and slammed the man onto the ground in a crushing thud.

"Well, I guess I underestimated you, Kyle." Floyd laughed who had vacated to a fire escape across the street. He coughed and jumped from the steel structure. Great, another creep who knew my name.

I massaged my stab mark as Deadshot crept closer; he didn't seem in a fighting mood as his facial expression was plain and flat.

"Your fighting skills are exceptional. My employer might be interested." Floyd lied. Strange was dead and he could not have found an employer that soon after escaping the train car.

"Batman never said you were a liar. Why would you have thugs if you were employed? Guess you're a man with many secrets." I said, staring into his distracting red lens. He laughed and continued.

"Huh, you're smart too. Wouldn't be surprised if you were working for one the head honchos. Who is it? Dent? Riddler? That blonde clown?" the naïve assassin listed; like I would ever get involved with them.

"None of them, my employer stays away from the chaos." I lied as well. What employer Selina? Come on think?

"Oh, excuse me. I never knew you were an assassin. Who is this _employer_?" Deadshot asked once more.

Now I had to think on my toes; thankfully my mind was conniving today.

"Helena, Helena Chance." I said, refraining from staring into his eyes.

"Hmm, well I would love to meet her, how much would she offer per death?" Floyd asked, believing my lie. _How much_? How should I know?

"You'll have to ask her, Bud. She usually operates from the abandoned look-out point near the Museum. I'll let her know you're coming later tonight." I told. Floyd bit his lip before answering.

"Sure, alright I'll come, see'ya sweetheart." He headed backwards to the fire escape, and vaulted up it in seconds. He and Bruce had the same quick exits.

I continued towards my apartment, hoping _Helena _would be ready for tonight.

* * *

I leaped up the soot cover wall into my apartment, ducking under the collapsed ceiling as I entered the window.

My eyes averted towards my room, totally untouched by the fire. I crept into my closet and fetched a black leather bag, my old Arkham jumpsuit and a pair of stiletto heels off of the top shelf. I left the closet to my bathroom.

I jolted open a drawer to pull out my purple coloured contacts. I squinted and dropped them in one by one. I blinked in the mirror; my violet lenses were an odd tone from my green eyes underneath.

I unclipped my helmet and goggles, letting my black hair fall to shoulder length. I combed it out, getting rid of the curls on the end.

I glared over at the charred clock outside my bathroom; dam, thirty minutes before Floyd will be at the look-out point.

I stuck on some dark red lipstick and exited the bathroom with my bag and new identity.

* * *

I plopped the empty bag on the floor near the door. I stepped into my orange jumpsuit, zipping it up to mid chest. My bare legs shivered as the cool wind broke through the holes in the wall.

My contacts were inching uncontrollably, but I could not give up now. The look-out point was isolated from the rest of Arkham City; making it the perfect place where an unknown crime boss would live.

I practiced my deep Helena voice; this had to be convincing.

I sat down on the desk's top; some of the TYGER papers still laid there. They could obviously hold deep secrets, but not now. Focus.

I soon heard a knock at the dented door. He was earlier than expected. I took a deep breath and prepared for a performance of a lifetime.

"Please, come in."


	4. Lessons

**Catwoman's POV**

The door opened in a slow creak; Deadshot walked in after it, wearing a black tank top, exposing shadowy tattoos on his chest and arms.

"So, how much are we talking, Ms. Chance?" Floyd questioned taking a seat on a rusty metal chair. He definitely meant business; so why not give it to him.

"Well, first we should get to know each other. I'm Helena, and you are?" I asked, keeping my voice deeper than usual. Huh, I think Floyd know each other a little more than I like if you ask me.

"Let's keep this short, sweetheart. The Cat said you had job openings; talk." Floyd demanded. Well, this proved he did not just act _that_ way in front of _me. _I complied and gave him a fake offer I had thought of earlier.

"Are you familiar with Hugo Strange?" I asked, already knowing his answer. I could almost envy Floyd for being that friendly with Hugo.

"Yeah, we've talked. He was offed by the Bat I think, right before the tower blew up. Why?" Floyd questioned, leaning in closer; I could almost smell his thick, foul breath from where I sat trying not to faint from the fumes.

"Well, he had something of mine, in his office. I need you to retrieve it; a thick brown briefcase." I said, waving a hand in front of my nose. He took the hint and leaned back.

"Listen, I don't really _do_ thefts." Floyd said loosely.

"Well, what is it you _do_ then. My sources have said you have failed to eliminate Batman, Wayne and that idiotic radio host. And you call yourself an assassin." I said, strengthening my voice. He probably never expected a _lady_ like me to go off like that.

Floyd lowered his head and paced back and forth across the tower. He finally sighed.

"How much?"

"We'll discuss this later. And don't think about double crossing me, I'll find out. Take this to communicate with me" I stated, standing up slowly to hand him a communication chip I had taken from a gurad. His dark blue eyes were like swirling pools, unsure of his decision.

"Fine I'll do it. How nice to meet you, Miss Chance." He said sarcastically, bowing in a corny fashion. He stepped on loose floor boards backward to the door, attaching a grey cord to the roof. Within seconds, he slid out of view into the streets of the city.

There was a sound of two gunshots, before a large thick familiar bullet echoed the first two. Wow, Floyd was good at his work.

I exhaled and started to pick out the itchy contacts from my eyes. I squinted, slapping the contact case closed. I ruffled my hair and sat down on the couch. Wow Selina, what have you got yourself into? At least there is an actual brief case there to get. And I really did need it.

It was one of the only books that survived the fire in my apartment. I saw it on a security camera from a T.Y.G.E.R. watch point. It sat idle at Strange's desk since his death.

I yawned and stared at a small clock Bruce had fixed last week for me; it was already two in the morning. I yawned again and decided to settle here for the night. I spread a warm blanket from the cupboard over my legs and rested my head on the couch's arm rest. Soon, my mind went cloudy and I fell into a long-overdue sleep.

I awoke drenched in sweat, something was happening. The large window behind me broke open and shattered shards all over me. One had pierced my arm, letting my blood curdle out. I fell to the floor in pain, gaining the strength to pack my things into my bag.

I lurched the zipper up its track and began for the door; this was a bad decision. A flaming bottle flew into the room as I opened the door, still crouched in a ball. The flames burnt my already irritated eyes.

Flames spat at the couch and floor; damn this room was wooden! I kicked the door open once more, where I saw the trouble maker; Dent and his crew were standing down at the street, launching flaming bottles at the tower.

"C'mon, Catwoman I know you're up there! I'm gonna' teach you a lesson for stealing from me!" He yelled from below, aiming a bullet at one of the tower's supports. A crackling sound followed the bullet. Great, three more supports and I'm going down.

Well, can I get out the front door? Of course not. Can I get jump out the back window? Of course not. Am I out of options? Of course.

I crawled to the far corner of the room, where flames were not. I ducked my head in my lap, bracing for a painful descent.

Another shot was soon to come.

One.

Two.

Three.

My mind was scattered as I woke up. What just happened? Rubble piled on my back, feeling my bones crush as I tried to move. My cheeks were scratched and burned from the fire.

I tried to speak from under the rubble. "H-help, pl-please." I whispered, not trying to. After minutes of _whispering_, I faced the facts. My life was too dangerous; me living on the edge surely had caught up with me.

I felt warm tears trickle down my face, adding to the burning sensation. I now openly cried out, needing something.

I cried for another half hour. Nothing but a few bird chirps had answered my calls. My arms had gone numb, my legs as well.

Suddenly, I felt the rubble being lifted above me. Thick arms slowly pulled me from the ground, finally resting me in its lap. I could hardly keep my eyes open to see who it was. Even though I had an idea who it was.

"Bruce, where were you half an hour ago?" I asked smugly.

"Teaching Dent a lesson on treating women." Bruce said, laughing under his breath. I laughed as well, before I felt my limp feet lift from the ground into the air.


	5. Hesitate

**Catwoman's POV **

"Floyd, are you there? It's Helena." I spoke into my ear piece. Deadshot had not contacted me since he left, so I thought I would make the first move. As far as I know, he could be dead.

Bruce was helpful once again; he had taken me through a tunnel to the Batcave, where I could be bandaged up from the fire. It had been a while since I had seen the Batcave, though the cave's black walls and watery depths all seemed like they had not been touched.

"Yeah, what is it? I'm scoping the office." Floyd's voice rang on the other line, constantly battered by signal interferences. "Th-the book is si-sitting on the desk, like you-. Be b-back at nine at th-the tower."

"No, change of plans; meet me at the museum." I said, referencing to the fire last night. I spun on my chair to face a computer screen, showing pictures of the tower's rubble.

"Fine, see you then, swee-sweetheart." Floyd agreed, hanging up his comlink. Now the frizzing noises had stopped, leaving idle beeps on the line.

"Early riser I suggest, Miss Kyle?"

I spun around to see the smiling face of Alfred, Bruce's butler. He still had the wide grin he had last time I was here. He was carrying a bottle of aloe for my burns, along with a tray of fresh breakfast.

"I suppose, Alfred." I said tiredly. I had not realized it was five in the morning. I got up from my wheelie-chair, tightening my black satin robe as I did.

Alfred took the hospitality of setting the tray down on the marble table in the centre of the cave. We took seats opposite of each other at the table. The butler leaned over to light candles at the centre of the table, illuminating the rest of the cave.

"So, let me guess. You being in Arkham City longer than you have to be is because of business, right? You have always been that person to get what you want, breaking barriers to get it." Alfred asked, pushing the little silver tray towards me.

I opened the top to reveal a glass of orange juice and a plate of fried eggs, with a piece of toast on the side; my favourite when I dated Bruce.

"Well, I guess it's complicated. I may be there for business, but my head may tell me something different. Sorry for pouring my thoughts on to you like this." I said. I had never been the one to just open up to anyone. I guess Alfred was more persuasive than I thought. Damn his old man charm.

"It's quite alright Selina. It's a nice change; Master Bruce hardly ever talks personal matters with anyone, you would never hesitate to talk," Alfred explained, "Now, if you do feel mind boggled by something or someone, simply confront the problem head on. That thing could be the answer to all your problems in Arkham and beyond."

I nodded. Alfred was always the one with the _mending_ words. Gosh, I missed these council meetings.

Three hours later, I took a quick look at the clock; Deadshot would be at the museum in an hour. I thanked Alfred for the meal, which he thanked me in return. Not sure why, but I would never question a man in a suit. He would also let Bruce know that I left when he came back to the cave.

I left through the underground tunnel in one of Bruce's _toys_; it was a sleek and black chopper, one he received from the Gotham City Green-Keepers when he convinced citizens to stop polluting a local park.

The cool air from the tunnel whooshed around my face, which was covered in _Helena's _makeup. I had yet to put on a dress I managed to find in the tower's rubble (wouldn't want any rips in this number).

I eventually slowed when the glowing search lights of the City came to view at the end of the tunnel. I slid across warm sewer water to a complete stop. I hopped of the bike, putting a pick-up sequencer on it for Bruce to pick it up.

I unhooked my bag from the back of the bike, turning to an alley to put on the dress.

My legs were freezing when I finally zipped up the back of the dress. It seemed like winter would never end. At least the sun was out, at least. I plopped in my contacts before applying the last squirt of aloe to my arms.

I stuffed the now empty bottle of aloe back into my bag. I was about to head for the museum before a gunshot pierced the air. I dove onto the ground, dirtying my dress I was intent on keeping clean.

"So, the bitch does clean up good." Dent's grim voice sounded, straddling his pistol at his hip. He wouldn't hesitate to shoot me, numerous times after I was dead.

"I have no clue what you are talking about. How dare you talk to me that way?" I said, putting on a Helena voice real quick, not hesitating to.

"Cut the crap, Cat. I know it was you in that tower the other day, but this time your little Bat won't be here to save you." Dent tightened his grip on his gun.

"If you are talking about my associate, Catwoman, she was in the Steel Mill yesterday. I however was in the tower when your brain-washed goons destroyed my home. Yet, an arse as yourself would not be able to comprehend this statement. Perhaps that will be your downfall, Harvey." I stated, lying.

Dent was very bad at deduction, but very good at quick accusations. I would have to play this identity up to more than one person.

"Then who the hell are you?" Harvey asked seeming to lower his gun. His scarred face now was gloomy as he now understood his mistake.

But instead, he let out a screeching noise and fell back into a garbage bin. His foot was gushing blood, creating puddle in the fluffy snow.

"She's Helena Chance." Floyd said, hopping down from a fire escape across the street. His dart gun was smoking out of the barrel, a familiar scene.

Soon, Dent fell unconscious. Thank god.

"So Chance, I got your book," Floyd said after helping me up from the ground, handing me the brown book I needed, "What are the burns from?"

"Don't ask." I said keeping my eyes locked on the book.

"So, what have you been up to?" He asked, leaning in closer: his intimidating stature towering above mine.

"Um, well, nothing." I stuttered. Was he on to me? Just keep it up Selina, for a few more minutes.

"Haven't been visiting anyone? The plant bitch? Quinn? The Bat?" he asked. My blood ran cold, my breathes became short and I could barely say anything.

"No, what would make you suspect tha-" I started, but Floyds frame pushed me against the wall, smacking my skull of the building behind me; the books hard cover still clenched in my grips.

"I'll give a hint why! I'm good at tracking devices! I could easily see you were in Wayne Manor all night! So tell me, which criminal in Arkham City had a thing for Wayne? Catwoman! I can see this little plan you had this whole damn time!" He screamed, tossing me to the ground taking the book from my hands.

My burns scraped the ground as I skidded to a halt, next to Dent's unconscious body.

Floyd opened the front cover of the book, seeing what I had been so intent as to hide; the book contained numerous _targets_ of wealth and fame that had been detained in Arkham. It was never _mine_ in the first place; Strange had it so he could imprison wealthy people in Arkham, preventing them from eventually closing down the prison.

He had nearly got everyone in the book into Arkham, everyone but Bruce. I figured I could make a quick buck from some of the target's wealth, that's it. Now, that Floyd had it, he could eliminate anyone and everyone in that book.

"Well, seems like your rouse was more helpful than I thought. Don't be surprised if Arkham's head count decreases by night. I'll save you until last, just so you can become paranoid." Floyd laughed, grappling up to a roof top with the book.

My life was over, literally. What can I do now? I had to face Alfred's statement, it was now life or death; I just don't want Bruce.

I need Bruce.


	6. Reality: Part 1

**Catwoman's POV**

I stood up from the grimy ground, looking down at my tar-patched dress. My lips had started to bleed as well, a familiar scene when I get nervous.

Dent was still unconscious, which was good since I would not want to bother him. I managed to safely make it across the street into an abandoned shop, littered with broken glass and ashes. The streets had gotten quiet, which added to my paranoia.

Damn, I had messed up _big_ time. Not only did I put every political prisoner in that book in danger, I put myself in danger as well.

I slumped down behind the chipped counter, regretting everything I had done. My head banged off the counter every time another stupid idea crossed my mind. My throat was croaky and dry, unable to say anything- at all.

I threw my heels across the shop, knocking down the last remaining shelve on the wall. The plates crashed down to the floor, splintering my ear drums.

I buried my head in my hands, letting all of those welled up tears stream down like an endless river. My black mascara dripped down my cheeks in long, smokey strands.

My body fell to the cold, tiled floor, wishing just to disappear into oblivion. My mind was clouded with all those regrets of the past few days. I knew all of them could be fixed by one thing- Bruce.

"Need a hand."

A dark figure appeared behind the counter, only its white pupils visible in the bland darkness.

"Many…" I agreed with Bruce, stepping up from my slumped position. I immediately fell into his arms upon standing up, letting more tears fall from my eyes. I sniffed loudly as his thick gloves wrapped around me.

We stood there- that was it; there was no advance on him by me; no battle for facts by him. Just comfort. My tears stopped as he started to rock me back and forth in his embrace. This was the side of him I had fallen in love with.

"Bruce I _need_ your help, more than ever. People's lives are at stake because of my stupidity," I bursted out from his chest, my voice still dry from my breakdown. "You are the only one I need. Please!"

He looked down at me, not saying anything. It's was like he expected me to vent to him; Alfred was a gossip.

He slowly let go of me and strutted to the window, peering into the noon day sun. He pulled down duct filled blinds to the ground of the shop and came back to my shaking frame.

"Selina, is it Deadshot?" He asked, tapping in to one of his many gadgets on his wrist.

I nodded and leaned in to gain a peak at his watch; the band emitted a blue hologram of Arkham City, beeping each time he tapped it.

"He's held up at Zsasz' old hideout near the mile," he concluded. "He's entering a data file from a book to a silver disk. Sound familiar?"

I nodded again, finally piecing all of the data together; that disk from the first time I encountered Floyd has the data storage of actual computer. All of those prisoners in Strange's book could be entered and sent to anyone on that single disk in seconds.

"Bruce, we have to go now! People could be dead in minutes!" I yelled, practically unzipping my dress in mid-speak. Bruce respectively turned away, which I expected anyways.

Once I was back as a cat, we both exited the shop into the streets;

There was a new dynamic-duo in town.

"Bruce, is that lock busted yet?" I asked getting impatient. We had spent three minutes trying to get into the back door of the hideout.

Soon enough, the lock beeped and the door creaked open to reveal a small janitor closet. We both squeezed into the room, Bruce already trying to break down the next door.

In seconds, the door was lowered silently to the ground. Now, we could see the whole facility; Bruce had told me he had been here once before, taking down Zsasz for killing political prisoners. This would make an easy alliance between Floyd and him.

It had been used in the past to operate the water pressure, using its energy to power other buildings in the city. Zsasz decided to use it as a hideout months ago.

We stepped into the blue tinted atrium in silence, leaving the cluttered janitor room vacant. The cool water sent vapour into the air, making the air even colder. I continued to follow Bruce along the caged balcony circling the room; water had always made me nervous, so I stayed as close as possible to him.

The grates creaked each time I took a step, adding to the suspense of them collapsing at any moment.

After two minutes of walking, we reached the control room. Bruce stopped dead in his tracks abruptly, which made me leap forward to him clasping his hands. He shook it reassuringly and tip-toed forward.

Soon, the reality of the situation sank in; two lifeless bodies floated in a water tank, each leaking blood from their stomach. Floyd was working fast like I had expected.

The lights blinked off and on again seconds later and the rush of water sped up beneath us.

Bruce leaned back to me and whispered: "I hear something. Stay here." Without another word, he leaped quietly down from the balcony to the grated ridgeway below.

He crept in a crouching position closer to the two voices, which seemed to be arguing.

I too crouched down, peering over the yellow railing lining the grates. My eyes followed Bruce as he crept closer to the control sector. The water below made me feel sick and dizzy at this point; I was over the main water pump, gushing water in circles.

I hurried my pace up to Bruce, no hearing the voices loud and clear.

"You moron, I pay you to kill this prisoner and you come back with clean hands!" Floyd screamed, hovering over the fidgeting body of the infamous Zsasz.

It seemed Zsasz was bleeding from each of his scars, while gasping for air. Deadshot was surely giving him a beating.

Floyd picked up the inmate from the ground and pinned him to a nearby wall.

"Y-you will regret thi-this. I have pe-people in here re-ready to ki-kill." Zsasz stuttered under the grip of Floyd's wrist on his throat.

"Ha, I wonder if they can hunt down a billionaire better than you." Deadshot taunted the mentally broken man.

"I'M TELLING YOU WAYNE IS NOT HERE! HE'S DEAD ALREADY!" Zsasz screamed at the top of his lungs, shaking the grip of the assassin. He pushed Floyd backward, pulling a knife from his back.

Zsasz jumped onto Floyd as he got up, but the assassin got the upper hand; he jabbed the knife into Zsasz's neck, letting blood gurgle down his red scars.

Floyd laughed and threw the man's dead body into the water pool below. He wiped blood onto his pants and laughed again.

"Well your dead _now."_


	7. Reality: Part 2

**Catwoman's POV**

I fell on my side, totally shocked on what had just happened; Floyd actually had the guts to pull off a murder that quickly, without contemplating the results.

My eyes locked with Bruce once more, who was hunched behind an empty crate. He was probably thinking what to do next, like me.

Well first, we have to locate that book and the disk, than dispose of them. Okay, so I have a game plan now to put it into action. I continued forward keeping an eye on Bruce below, who also began to move forward.

I was about to leap down to the main level, but a gloved hand gripped my left foot, forcefully pulling me back. I started squirming, trying to kick at the goon, who I recognized as the _good looking_ one from a couple of nights ago.

I finally connected my foot with his stomach, which sent him tumbling to the rusty grate. He groaned and desperately tried to get up, but he was too late.

The balcony shook wildly now, and I could hear the crunching of the grate me. I gripped the railing as the whole section of the grate collapsed to the concrete floor of the facility. My whole body slammed awkwardly onto the ground, whereas the thug easily picked himself up and pointed a dart gun right at me.

However, Bruce was too quick for him; the Dark Knight dove from behind a crate to slam the goon into the wall, knocking him unconscious on impact.

Bruce helped me up from the ground, before I heard a clicking sound behind me.

Floyd cocked his gun right at my chest, ready to shoot at any moment.

"Well the cat and the bat, seems like you've caught up to me, but no matter- no one will miss Zsasz." Floyd said, tightening his grip on his gun.

"Why Floyd? Hugo is not here to boss you around anymore. Why go through all of this trouble just to make sure these people are dead?" Bruce stated, stepping in front of me fearlessly.

"Easy, I get the satisfaction of a job well done. Strange was merely a payer for my work. I'd much rather kill for the sheer adrenaline," Floyd answered. "Yet, the cowardly bitch behind you decided to make a mockery out of me, so here are my thoughts- you both die!"

My mind blanked again, and everything slowed. I jumped in front of Bruce, readying myself for a shattering blow.

But the gun did not shoot out a bullet, but a grappling hook. The hook dug into my side and pulled me over a railing, into the ice cold water tank. My senses were clouded as I desperately pawed to pull myself to the surface. My cheeks were burning from the cold pool, which made me desperately gasp for air.

I eventually made it up to the surface to gurgle a few words:

"H-help me!"

Although, Bruce was being attacked by three knife wielding thugs. His chest was already bleeding, but he seemed to be fending fairly well against them.

My head ducked beneath the surface again, but I had managed to grasp a rope on the side of the pool. I tugged furiously down on the rope, hoping for it to hook something.

Unfortunately, the knotted end of the rope slid right through the railing down to the depths of the water. I had now decided to kick to an edge, where I could attempt to climb out.

I was almost to the concrete edge of the pool, until Floyd stood over me straddling Strange's book in his hand. I almost _knew_ what he was thinking.

"Here cat, you want your book? Here, I don't need it as long as I have this." He laughed, tapping the pocket holding the familiar disk.

He literally threw the book down onto my face, breaking my nose on instant. I gripped my nose and lost my grip on the edge of the pool, emerging my face in the bone chilling water once more.

My teeth had begun to chatter and Bruce was still sparring with the thugs. I had to take matters into my own hands: I dove farther into the water, feeling the warm blood from my nose flood into my face.

I reached the bottom of the tank, the pump coils feet from my face. I desperately looked for that rope, which I found wrapped in un-tidy circle, next to the damp brown book.

I untangled the rope and threw it into the pump coils, hearing the pump jam with a creaking snap. Now I had seconds to get out of the water before the tank became an _electric-eel aquarium. _

I could feel my throat get warm and heavy as I continued to lose air. I kicked hard to get myself to the surface, which finally happened.

I gasped as I broke into the air, sucking in as much air as I could. Bruce was right there to help me out of the water.

I felt my body go numb as Bruce lifted me up and out. I once again fell into his arms looking for warmth. He wrapped his cape around me and pulled me in closer. My teeth were still chattering as I felt his heated cape slowly warm my body.

The control room was silent except for the snapping electricity coming from the _eel tank._

"Where's Floyd?" I asked, finally warm.

"He ran up through the staircase seconds ago. We can still catch him though." Bruce said, heading for the staircase. I followed him up the stairs, wanting to get revenge on Floyd for many things now.

Bruce broke down the door and scanned desperately for Floyd. The assassin was typing quickly into a computer, entering saved info from the disk.

I quickly threw a pair of bolas at the computer, shattering its screen. Floyd screamed in rage and began to head like a rhino at the pair of us.

Bruce and I dove across the creaky attic to opposite corners. Floyd crashed loudly into the wall, making a spider-web crack appear on the already weak wall. I quickly searched the computer desk for the obvious.

"Well, you suppose you won, huh? You've apprehended the world's greatest assassin," Floyd muttered, blood spewing from his forehead. Most of his front teeth were missing, probably scattered across the floor. "Well, these are my thoughts-"

A loud, thick explosion of the pump was heard from downstairs, totally destroying the bottom floor of the facility. Bruce dove at me and leapt out the window with me in his grasp. The air surged across our faces as the building exploded behind us.

We slid to a halt on a street corner, turning to see the orange cloud forming from the pump building.

That was it; Floyd was gone and would not be taking out any other prisoners anytime soon. That disk's memory was erased and was now useless. I had just escaped all of my problems, yet I did not feel any different.

"C'mon, we'll get that nose patched up at the cave." Bruce said, getting up from the ground. I sniffed and got up as well, grasping Bruce's hand as we continued to glare at the explosion.

Then we both looked at each other, like we did at the abandoned shop. Now we both felt that emotion I had in that alleyway days ago.

I leaned in to passionately kiss him, a mutual feeling between us.

I had found that something that I needed…


End file.
